


No White Flag

by FruHallbera



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Blood and Injury, M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, Prompt Fill, Starkiller Base, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-07-28 17:16:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16246214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FruHallbera/pseuds/FruHallbera
Summary: A tumblr prompt: "captain goes down with his ship" where Hux believes he should go down with Stakiller base but Kylo does not like the idea





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title is shamelessly pilfered from Dido's song White Flag.

_There_.

Right there.

Finally.

A black, shapeless lump was lying prone in white and red snow, horribly, horribly still. Hux felt relief surging through him as he forced his legs into a wobbly run, his muscles protesting every move. The snow resisted his efforts, sliding under his boots and hiding away roots and stones and everything else put there in order to trip people up. Despite the sheer beauty and power of the Starkiller Hux still preferred the clean, straight lines of a battle cruiser. Especially the clean, straight and _even_ corridors of a battle cruiser.

He felt a pang of regret at the fact that he’d never see one again and hoped fervently that the _Finalizer_ would have enough time to complete the evacuation and make the hyperspace jump before the base collapsed. Those had been his last orders, shouted to a commlink on his way to carry out the order he’d been tasked with. Find Kylo Ren. Make sure he gets back to Leader Snoke. There had been no reference to himself, no “bring my apprentice to me, then take control of the situation and salvage what you can, you’ll be based on the _Finalizer_ ,” for example. Hux hadn’t gotten where he was by not being able to read between the lines. He had always prided himself for being in charge of his own destiny, and right now it seemed that there was very little he could do to change it.

Well. He might not be able to change the outcome, but he’d be damned if he didn’t have any influence in the proceedings.

First, though, he had his orders. That at least was straightforward. He was a soldier, he had a commander and he knew his duty, and he refused to be remembered as someone who shirked away and fled from his post. He’d sent the Knight on his way and hopefully had time to think some memorable last words for the rescue team to take back to be written down in his eulogy. There’d be no official service for him, the ancient Imperial faction of High Command would see to that, the best he could hope for was that his name would be carved in the Order’s memorial wall. He’d be remembered in different ways. He liked to think he commanded the loyalty and respect of his direct subordinates, and they would carry his memory in their anecdotes and drunken reminisces. A fitting fate for a soldier.

Hux fell on his knees when the ground shook violently, the cold snow melting and seeping through his clothes and getting inside his gloves and boots. He drew in a pained breath and once again forced himself to carry on.  

The final few meters he crawled on his hand and knees, partly because the ground was now shuddering constantly, the core of the base trembling in its death throes, and partly because he had no strength left. He collapsed on Ren, almost sobbing with exhaustion, pain and sheer humiliation. He heaved himself on his knees, shoving numb fingers in his greatcoat pocket to dig out his personal tracker device, managed to turn it on his third attempt and shoved it inside Ren’s collar. The rescue team, if they still were there to pick up the signal and if they were even able to make it out here and back again, would deal with the rest. Hux hadn’t wanted to risk their lives unnecessarily but it had taken him quite a long time to get to Ren despite the little device Hux had forced on him prior some of his more dangerous missions. It might already be too late. The team might have perished or evacuated themselves.

Well, in view of what was about to come, in the grand scheme of things it didn’t matter if Hux failed this particular mission. He’d be dead within the hour. He hadn’t thought much about his end, despite the obvious hazards of his occupation, but he certainly hadn’t expected it to be like this. Alone, shivering from cold and water from the melting snow seeping through his clothes, without even a cigarette to lend some comfort and pretend glory to the situation. They had been left in the top drawer of his office desk, somewhere beyond the forest and the heaving, splitting ground and falling trees.

Hux slumped on the ground again. He willed away the shameful tears pricking his eyes and wiped his running nose on the cuff of his coat. The snow looked beautiful and pure and soft when observed from behind a window in a properly heated room. Up close it was dirty and freezing and compiled out of tiny, razor-sharp shards of ice. Yet another disappointment to add to his ever-growing list of the ways the universe failed to meet his expectations.

Ren was still breathing steadily even if otherwise unresponsive. His wounds were horrifying, the gash across his face was one of the worst injuries Hux had seen, counting those he had inflicted on others in the course of his advancement to his current rank. Ren had bled copiously from his side the wound hidden beneath his robes, but the flow seemed to have eased, at least the stain on the snow wasn’t growing. Ren was awfully pale, almost blue, and Hux became worried he might not make it to the _Finalizer’s_ medbay. Hux removed his cap and slid his fingers gingerly under Ren’s head, lifting it carefully just enough so that he could cram the cap underneath and fashion a makeshift pillow out of it. After a moment’s thought he stripped his greatcoat and covered Ren with it, hoping it would proved enough insulation from the elements. The rescue should be here soon enough, but the temperature was dropping rapidly. Even with his formidable physique Ren had lost too much blood to keep him from succumbing to hypothermia.

Hux shivered, wrapped his arms around him and made up his mind. He would sit here until he could confirm the team had arrived, then take a final walk in the forest until the inevitable happened. No final words, no heroic poses. No regrets.

Well. There were on or two things he wished he’d had time to experience. One indulgence in particular he still _had_ the time to do, if he had the courage. Hux filled his lungs with the ice-cold air, blew it out through his nostrils and slowly bent over to plant a kiss on Ren’s lips. It was wrong on so many levels, Ren was unconscious and more than likely would reduce Hux into pulp if he knew what was happening but as death was already only moments away Hux truly had nothing to lose. He had thought about this for years. How it would feel to kiss Ren, maybe even to bed him. How it would feel to wake up next to him, not having to resort to pilfering extra blankets from under the quartermaster’s watchful eye because Ren was bound to have enough body heat to warm up Hux’s permanently freezing bones. How it would feel to have a companion.

Oh well. No point in dwelling on what would never happen. Wouldn’t have happened even if the Resistance attack had been repelled. Ren’s interests didn’t run in Hux’s direction, that much was clear from his obsession with the girl from Jakku.

The kiss felt just as good as Hux had imagined. Ren’s lips were cold, but they were soft and plump and opening slightly, and Hux was nipping his lower lip when he became aware of two things. Ren was kissing him back, and he was slowly closing Hux in a death grip embrace.

“Ren!” Hux tried to push himself free, but even seriously wounded Ren was a powerful beast and he was now crushing Hux to his chest. “Let me go.”

Ren shook his head, not opening his eyes. “Ren,” Hux tried in a more reasonable tone, “I’m not your scavenger girl. It’s me. Hux. Let me go.”

“I know.” It was only a whisper, so quiet that Hux would have missed it had his ear not been in very close vicinity of Ren’s mouth. He tightened his grip around Hux.

“I’m sorry I kissed you. I shouldn’t have done it. Please let me up.”

“You want to die. I won’t let you.”

“What?”

Ren blinked his eyes open and with great effort focused on Hux. “You’ve always been careless with your thoughts. You plan on dying here. I refuse to lose you too.”

“I’m a dead man walking, Ren. Snoke will off me as soon as he sees me. Let me die on my own terms. Give me that. Please, Ren.” Hux couldn’t believe he had been reduced to begging on his final moments. He knew Ren was cruel and brutal and their disagreements were famous, but he had hoped at least some level of decorum from the Knight in the face of his sacrifice. Or maybe Ren was simply hoping for a chance to kill Hux himself. Hux struggled against the impossibly strong arms. He could hear the sound of an engine drawing closer, and a beam of light was flickering between the trees. The rescue team was here. Great.

The shuttle hovered above them as troopers were winched down. Before Ren eased his hold on Hux, he thought he heard him muttering something, lips pressed against his cheek. _I will kill him before he harms you. I won’t lose you too._

Hux watched as Ren was moved on a stretcher and hoisted up, then felt hands on his shoulders ushering him towards the ropes dangling from the shuttle. He let the trooper tie them together in swift, efficient movements and only felt a small surge of panic when his boots left the ground. It was not supposed to go this way. He couldn’t understand why he hadn’t spoken the words, why he hadn’t ordered the trooper to leave him on the ground. The troopers in the shuttle grabbed him by his shoulders and forcibly pulled him in, not paying any attention to how his knees gave out when his boots touched the shuttle’s floor. The ropes were removed, and the troopers took their seats while the floor tilted when the pilots pushed the engine to their limits to remove them from the disaster zone as fast as possible.

Hux got to his feet, stumbling into an empty seat as far away from the troopers as possible and finally abandoning the attempt at fastening his seat belt. He let his hands fall on his lap, fingers tingling as he slowly went numb from the shock of not dying after all. He imagined the familiar triangle of the _Finalizer_ drawing closer, her engines already glowing in anticipation of getting far away from the danger as soon as her commander was onboard. Hux leaned back on his chair, resolutely keeping his mind on his flagship and avoiding any thoughts of the collapsing base behind them.

His life’s work. His ambition, his glory, his power. His greatest moment and biggest failure.

From the corner of his eye he could make out the still form of Ren, tied to the stretcher and a medical droid hovering around him. The poor droid seemed far to crude a model to attend to such severe trauma. The team apparently grabbed the first droid they had seen. Hux supposed Ren was lucky it had been a med droid instead of an astromech model.

And then they were touching down on the Finalizer’s hangar bay, full of shuttles and people and shouting.

And then – Ren was whisked off to the medbay, Hux was ushered to the bridge and then –

“General, we’re ready to jump –“

“General, here’s the initial report of the estimated losses –“

“General, the coordinates for the rendezvous point have been transmitted –“

“General, the ship took some minor damage to the portside hull, but –“

“General, the resistance fleet –“

“General, here is the proposed plan of rationing our supplies, the number of evacuees –“

“General –“

And then everything went black.

Hux came to on a medbay cot, fighting against restraints which he realized was actually a thick arm slung across his chest. His cot was pushed together with Ren’s and the Knight was sleeping peacefully under his heavy bandages.

“Sir, good to have you with us again.” The doctor helped him sit up and poured him a glass of water. “I apologise for the unconventional arrangement, but we are running out of space and everyone is forced to share a room.”

Hux waved his hand and emptied half of the water in one gulp. “How long was I unconscious? And why am I sharing a bed with Commander Ren?”

The doctor coughed in slight embarrassment. “Lord Ren became exceedingly restless when you were brought in, but we found that your proximity soothed him. I apologise, sir, but our resources are thinning out and we couldn’t risk any unnecessary damage to our equipment. Your bridge crew called us four hours ago. Exhaustion and shock and low blood sugar, I’m glad to say, nothing some rest and a proper meal won’t cure.”

Four hours! In this situation it was practically an eternity. Hux made to stand up but the doctor stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Sit for a while, sir. I don’t want you passing out again.”

The retort died on Hux’s tongue as a wave of fatigue passed over him. He settled back, ignoring how Ren’s arm was now resting heavily against his bladder. Somehow his fingers became entangled in Ren’s hair, curling on their own in a tight fist. “How come he’s not in a bacta tank? I know his injuries are extensive.”

The doctor sucked his lower lip before answering. “Normally he would be, sir. Right now, we cannot allow any privileges of rank. There are so many worse off than him. So many.”

Hux couldn’t face the badly hidden despair in the doctor’s voice and kept his eyes on his hand buried in Ren’s hair. His ambition, his power, his glory. His failure, his fault, his burden to bear. He could feel a tremor beginning in his core, moving towards his hands and legs but managed to quell it by taking a few deep breaths. He had lost the Starkiller and he was likely to lose his life very soon, but he would not lose his dignity in front of his subordinates.

“Please forgive me, sir, but this needs to be said. We have just suffered a major loss, and none of us is exempt from the trauma, not even you. Especially you, I should say. We can arrange someone you can talk to, in utmost confidence, to help you deal with the loss.”

Whatever fire was doused by the snow of Starkiller ignited at the doctor’s words. Hux removed Ren’s arm from his lap and his hand from the Knight’s hair and got up on unsteady feet. “That will not be necessary,” he growled as he searched for his clothes. The doctor sighed but nodded and went to fetch Hux’s uniform from a closet by the door. He handed it over and excused himself to see other patients. Hux dressed in silence, pausing only to awkwardly pat Ren’s shoulder when he began to twitch from an apparent nightmare. “I’ll be back,” he muttered and that seemed to calm Ren down.

This was another complication to be sorted out, but not now. Maybe, if he survived the next few weeks, and if Ren survived his injuries he’d find the time to sit down with a glass of whiskey and think this through. Maybe.

There was always the option that Ren had dragged him from the Starkiller only to have the pleasure of offing Hux himself.

But before that there was so much to do. Ren had dragged him from the collapsing planet, so he would use the time he had left to at least try to salvage what he could. His legacy would not be a failure, it would be an example of how to bounce back and never stop fighting. He would show them. He would force the Order to rise from the ashes, to reach for such glory and power that the galaxy would fall on its knees and submit, the systems would _beg_ to join them. All of this he would do just as soon as his hands stopped shaking enough for him to button up his shirt.

He made it. Made it through the medbay doors, made it to the turbolift, made it to the bridge. Grabbed his cup of caf like it was the only thing keeping him anchored in reality and began to sort out the chaos one problem at the time.

It was awful. The losses alone – entire engineering teams, officers of all ranks, the horrifying number of troopers – meant that all of the other operations would have to be delayed or cancelled before some aggressive personnel relocation and recruitment. The amount of money did not bear thinking – the base alone had cost an unimaginable amount of credits, and with it had gone so much equipment cataloguing it all would take years.

But they were waging a war, and all of this was an inevitable part of it. True, it should have been prevented, and the Order would be struggling for a while, but they would recover. What truly worried Hux were the survivors. It would take all of his strength and cunning to keep the morale from lagging and the possible deserters at their posts. And it would take even more of his energy to keep the High Command from dividing the Order into factions and starting a civil war.

Hux couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would take to convince the Supreme Leader that his continued existence would benefit the Order more than his execution.

His rest cycle came and went, and it was only halfway through what would have been his next work cycle in normal circumstances Hux felt he had enough tasks delegated and fires put out that he could take a few hours to get some food and some sleep. He could not collapse again in public. He left the bridge with strict instructions to contact him if anything unusual happened and somehow made it to his quarters. He had a light meal, took his time in the sonic and without much thought got dressed again and was through the medbay doors before his brain caught up with the rest of his body.

He stopped for a second to consider, then pushed the button at Ren’s door, felt a surge of relief to see the empty cot was still next to Ren’s bed and stripped to his underwear before slipping under the thin blanket. Ren turned over in his sleep, wrapping himself around Hux, his warmth melting the knots in Hux’s tired muscles. He drifted off in a matter of seconds.

Hux had heard it said but had dismissed it right away. He had been wrong. Sometimes all you needed was another body next to yours.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh my but doesn't this go forward at a glacial speed. It'll get there. Sooner or later :)

Ren was awake when Hux blinked his eyes open, momentarily panicking in the unfamiliar surroundings. The doctor who was checking Ren’s bandages and bacta patches thankfully made no comment to find his General tucked up in bed with his co-commander. He merely muttered something in his commlink, and soon a cup of tea and a nutritionally optimal morning meal appeared on the bedside table.

Hux wasn’t particularly hungry but ate anyway, if only to avoid talking to Ren. The Knight didn’t seem to be overly enthusiastic at talking to Hux either, he kept his head turned away and leaned this way and that according to the doctor’s instructions. Feeling increasingly awkward Hux finished his breakfast quickly and rose from the cot to make for the fresher for his morning ablutions. He noticed a fresh uniform hanging from a hook by the door. He’d have to either reward his aide for initiative or reprimand her for being overly nosy. Right now, he was leaning towards rewarding her as he was now able to exit the uncomfortable situation more quickly.

The doctor had left the room when Hux returned from the fresher. Ren was lying on his side, turned away from Hux and breathing steadily though obviously not asleep. Hux dressed in silence. He’d have to stop by his quarters to fix his hair, it kept falling over his eyes as he bent to don his trousers and socks. Boots and belt were the final bits of his armour, but he still needed a moment to breathe in deep before opening the door and facing the world.

His aide, a sharp young woman whose brown hair was pulled into a tight bun at the nape of her neck was waiting right outside the room. She moved from a casual lean against the wall to rigid attention in a split second, producing two datapads and handing one of them to Hux.

“Voddher,” he acknowledged. “Talk to me.”

“The command crew is ready to assemble at your order, sir. I have made a suggestion of prioritizing your schedule. The fleet is assembling at the rendezvous point and is ready to accommodate the survivors. The quartermaster reports we might not be able to make it there without at least one supply run. I also have the latest media reports.”

“Media can wait. I want the inventory and assemble the command crew.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Any word from the Supreme Leader?”

“No, sir.”

Since Hux couldn’t decide whether that was good or bad news he turned his attention to the multitude of messages waiting on his datapad. There was no time to waste on his hair, he’d have to put up with it being a nuisance and stare down those caught ogling his unusual appearance. First among his messages was the latest casualty report. He held his breath and forced his index finger to tap the small icon. He skimmed the list, in search of the most familiar names. Opan was safe, or at least not yet counted among those missing. Phasma was reported to have sustained minor injuries but still being held in the medbay. Hux made mental note to check on her as soon as he had time.

The command crew was already waiting for him when he entered the war room. At least, what was left of the command crew. They shuffled around the room quietly, not wanting to sit down and face the empty chairs. Hux cleared his throat at the door and the officers settled reluctantly down. From thereon Hux had no idea what to say. He toyed with his datapad, accepted the offered cup of caf with gratitude and would have sat down had his body been any less tense.

“Right,” he managed at last. “Tell me everything we know about what happened at the base.”

“We are still retrieving data. The attack- “

“ _The attack should not have been possible!_ ” Hux slammed his hand on the table and regretted it as soon as he saw his officers flinch. “It should not have been possible. Our shields should have been strong enough to repel even stronger bombardment.”

The officers exchanged glances and shifted their weights. Hux closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know that the shield failed. Have we still any theories as to why that happened?”

Some more silence. Hux raised his eyebrows and stared at a Colonel until she shrank under his scrutiny. “Sir, as already said, we are still retrieving data but it would seem that the shield was intentionally lowered. There is no evidence of hardware or software malfunction, although it’s still too early to confirm anything.” She trailed into silence. They were all avoiding each other’s eyes.

“So. either the system was hacked or there is a traitor among us.” Hux finished for her. “I want you to find out which it was, and who it was, as soon as possible. Meanwhile, we have other urgent matters to attend to.”

The atmosphere in the room became more relaxed after they moved to the familiar territory of casualties and supplies and damage control. This was war, and war was what they did best. It was just the scale of destruction that seemed overwhelming. They indeed needed to resupply, badly, before even attempting to make it to the rest of the fleet, let alone consider any detours to deliver Ren to his Master. Thankfully the _Finalizer_ was already quite close to a very friendly system, but the local merchants had already heard the news and made one-sided alterations to their agreed-upon prices. Hux growled. He ordered his most vicious negotiators to send the local bourgeoisie the Order’s regards, and to invite them to lower their prices back to more acceptable level.

If that didn’t work, he’d take what he needed by force. There wasn’t any time to waste.

It was only after the meeting, when he had dismissed his aide for her break and was making his way to the bridge when it hit him. The shield around Starkiller hadn’t failed because of a malfunction. It had been intentionally lowered. Besides him there were only three other people who had a clearance high enough to both access the shield control and override the security system so that the entire shield was disabled. Since Hux could rule himself out and Leader Snoke rarely left his chambers aboard the _Supremacy_ that only left two other suspects.

No.

Absolutely not.

Suddenly all the noise and the people and even the light became all too much to bear. Completely overwhelmed Hux took a sharp turn right and stepped inside a small supply closet, standing completely still until the lights dimmed and then turned off. He stood in the silence and darkness, waiting for his breathing to slow down and his heart to stop beating its way out of his ribcage. He shifted and wrapped his arms tightly around him, and that was all the motion sensor lights needed to burst back into full brightness. Hux swallowed hard, blinking his dry, burning eyes. He drew himself to his full height, dug deep for an unused reserve of strength and stepped back into the corridor, ready to assign anyone even thinking about looking at him funny for sanitation duty for the foreseeable future.

There really was nothing of importance to be done on the bridge while the _Finalizer_ hurtled through hyperspace. Hux felt that his presence was needed more than his expertise. He had to be seen in command, at the helm of his ship, ready face any and all challenges thrown in his way. Besides, that gave him time to think even tough his brain was caught on a loop of either Phasma or Ren being instrumental to Starkiller’s fall.

He felt all semblance of control sliding away from him. He clung to menial tasks, refusing to delegate even the most mundane report to his subordinates. It helped, to some extent, there was order and clarity in numbers and simple work.

It was once again well past his normal time to retire when he took the turbolift to the medbay. This time he passed the door which would have led him to Ren and asked to see Phasma instead. He was taken into a small, quiet room with white walls and white bed linen, and a pale blonde woman almost drowning in the sheer bright whiteness of it all. Yet there was nothing frail about Phasma. Even heavily sedated her body seemed poised to strike out at any sign of a threat. Hux couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sturdy restraints around her wrists, chest and ankles. “How is she?”

“There is very little we are concerned about her physical health.” The doctor accompanying Hux chose her words carefully. “All of her injuries are minor and superficial.”

Hux touched the bind around Phasma’s wrist, half expecting her to surge up to twist his arm and throw him to the floor like he’d seen her do so many times in training. “Her _physical_ health?”

The doctor adjusted her IV line before speaking quietly. “She tries to actively harm herself when awake. This is not an ideal solution and I apologise for it, but right now it’s the best we can do.”

Hux nodded, suddenly feeling hot and cold at the same time. Phasma was fiercely loyal to her troops so perhaps this was only natural. Perhaps she was only reacting to the magnitude of her losses and not because –

Hux took an involuntary step back and masked the wave of nausea washing over him with an order to keep him updated if there were any changes to her condition. He escaped the room as quickly as he could, not quite trusting himself to be in her vicinity before he had all the facts. Besides, it couldn’t be her. It couldn’t. She was as dedicated to the Order as Hux himself, they had known each other for ages and even considered each other as friends.

It couldn’t be her.

Besides, there was another suspect to question. Hux hesitated for a moment before entering the room reserved for his co-commander. Ren was awake, propped up against the wall, his thin pillow the only barrier between his skin and the cold durasteel.

“Good evening, General.” Ren kept his attention on the datapad he was idly scrolling. “Here to spend the night?”

“No.” Hux almost believed himself. “I need to ask you a question.”

Ren put the datapad down and regarded Hux calmly.

“It seems that the enemy had a helping hand within our own ranks.  The shield- “Hux had to stop to collect himself, his voice was beginning to shake. “The shield was lowered on purpose. I would like you to tell me what, precisely, were you doing prior to the attack.”

“I didn’t do it, Hux.”

“Prove it.”

“No. You are the one accusing me, it’s your job to provide the evidence. Check your records and you’ll see whose clearance code was used.”

Hux felt his fingernails pressing into his palms. “We haven’t got all the data yet.”

Ren kept his eyes on Hux, unwavering and unnervingly calm. The walls seemed to close in as the silence stretched and became uncomfortable. Hux stood rooted to the spot, fighting his urge to flee. When Ren finally spoke, his voice was quiet and devoid of emotion.

 “Her mind screams her guilt every time the drugs wear off.”

Hux barely made it to the fresher before his stomach emptied itself. He stayed on his knees until he stopped convulsing and refused to face himself in the mirror when he rinsed his mouth. The thought of Phasma sabotaging Starkiller’s defences – the thought of Phasma working in any way against the Order – was too big to handle in one go.

Who could he trust now? Not Ren, certainly, the man had his own agenda and despite the incident upon his rescue and last night’s lapse would undoubtedly be happy to see Hux sacrificed. His peers were already preparing to fill the power vacuum after his execution or demotion and the old Imperials would forget he’d ever existed within five minutes of his exit. He leaned his forehead against the mirror, letting the cool, smooth surface calm his nerves. He drew back and scowled at the smudge his skin had left behind. His attempt at wiping it away with his sleeve only made it spread wider and something gave inside Hux. His fist slammed against the glass, not forcibly enough to make it shatter but still the pain of the impact made Hux jolt back to his senses.

He would wait for the hard evidence and then decide what to do with Phasma. Until then she’d be either sedated or kept under lock and key.

Hux washed his face with cold water, rubbed his skin dry with the coarse regulation towel the medbay was stocked with and marched out of the fresher and out of the room and the medbay. He kept going until he reached his own quarters.

Sleep did not come to him that night.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Dammit, I completely forgot to apply a warning for non-consensual kissing, when Kylo is uncoscious and Hux is a selfish bastard. I aplogise, and try and get my head in order to remember these things in the future.


End file.
